A Christmas On Elm Street
by George Smillie
Summary: Freddy Krueger's hosting the Christmas Party this year. Will it work out? Or will the guests screw it up?


A Christmas On Elm Street  
  
George Smillie  
  
(A/N: I had to do something Freddy this Christmas, so here it is. It is NOT serious, like my other fics, and I know that I don't write humor well...)  
  
Fred Krueger was . . . happy? No not happy, but busy. He was entertaining tonight. Finally it was his turn to hold the annual Christmas party. Freddy was dressed in his finest sweater, which was basically his ordinary sweater, and he had cleaned his glove for the first time in what must have been fifty years! The knives glistened in the light (Freddy had put up some Christmas lights around 1428 Elm Street.), and Freddy grinned wickedly. Nearly time. In fact, the first guests should start arriving any minute now.  
  
DING-DONG  
  
As if on que, the doorbell rang. Energetically, Freddy bounced to the door and opened it. His face fell. Standing tall above him stood a giant of a man, his face covered with a dirty hockey mask. "Who invited you?" growled Freddy. Jason Vorhees shoved Freddy to one side and walked in. "Great, I get to make conversation with a brick wall" he said as Jason lumbered in to Freddy's makeshift bar room. Freddy had never wanted Jason invited to the party, but unfortunatly he was a member of S.U.F.E.R. (The Slashers United and Federal Evil society). The R was just there to spell out suffer, even if it was spelt wrong.   
  
DING-DONG  
  
Rushing to the door, Freddy pulled it open, and said in a Dracula type of voice, "welcome to my ho-" There was nobody there. "Hello?"   
  
"Down here wise-ass!" Krueger glanced down to see a little doll.  
  
"Chucky! Welcome, so nice to see you again. Did you bring Tiffany?"  
  
"Hi Krueger. Still burnt? Yup. Well nothings changed, wheres the bar?" Chucky needed a drink.   
  
"Um . . . first door on the right. Make yourself at home, little weasel." Just as Freddy shut the door, there was a tremendous crash. "What the hell?" Freddy ran to the bar and to his shock and dismay, he saw Jason attempting to pour drinks. "NO! NO! Get away from there you miserable excuse for a goalie! Stop smashing my drinks!"   
  
DING-DONG  
  
Fred moaned. "Its this kind of thing that drove me to murder in the first place." He opened the door to find a girl standing there. She had long black hair which streamed down over her face, hiding her eyes. She was dressed in rags. Freddy gulped. Samara, the magical killer girl. Recently this year he had had a brief fling with her, and he still hadn't got over it completly. He was captivated by her cold skin and flesh . . . but not tonight! For tonight, he was entertaining! "Samara! Welcome back, your looking . . . deader than ever!" Freddy grinned falsely. That was a terrible attempt at a one-liner. "Can I take your rags?"   
  
NO THANK YOU. Freddy jumped. Jesus she was loud when she talked to him through his brain. "Come in then . . ."  
  
By this time, Jason and Chucky had found Krueger's fridge. And boy were they having fun. "Hey big guy," said Chucky. "Help me reach the top shelve and there's a cookie in it for you!" Jason nodded casually, and allowed Chucky to hop onto Jason's massive shoulders. Chucky peered in. "Christ that stinks like a dead horse! Ah, here we are. Uncle Freddy's Long-Life Christmas Cookies." He grabbed the box and ripped it open. "Here ya go Jason, think of it as a Christmas present from me to you. Unless you'd prefer to be known as my food taster." Jason shoved a cookie in to his mouth and grinded it up with his brown teeth. Chucky cringed.  
  
DING-DONG  
  
I'LL GET IT, Samara 'said.'   
  
"No, no" insisted Freddy. "I'm the host and i'll be damned . . . again if I let some little girl do it for me!" He opened the door to see . . . "Michael! Always a pleasure. Your hockey equivalent is just through there." Michael Myers nodded, his face covered in a traditional Bill Shatner mask, and headed off in the direction of the bar room. But Jason had secretly ran off with Chucky (see above) and stolen Freddy's Christmas Cookies. However, the cookies carried a special anti-thieft device.  
  
Jason lay crawling and writhing on the kitchen floor, spasming wildly. "Oh shit!" Exclaimed Chucky. He examined the box. It read in small print, 'DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS YOU ARE A TEENAGER TRAPPED IN A NIGHTMARE.' After about ten minutes of spasming, Jason stood up and brushed off the storm of cookie crumbs on his shirt and headed back off to the bar room. Chucky shrugged. "I guess you can't do much more to hurt him. He's died like twenty times."  
  
Freddy stood in the bar handing out drinks for Samara and Michael. "What are you drinking guys?"  
  
ANYTHING WITH VODKA. Freddy poured Samara something brown and handed it to her.   
  
"There ya go. Michael? Oh thats right, you don't drink. Good for you!" Freddy grabbed a bottle of beer just as-  
  
DING-DONG  
  
"Coming!" Krueger opened the door. "And you are?"  
  
"Mr. Krueger. Merry Christmas." Who was this? Freddy looked him up and down. He was dressed in a black suit, and he wore dark sunglasses. "My name is Smith."  
  
"Oh thats right! The new guy . . . Matrix right? Yeah I remember. Nice to meet you Smith. I'm Freddy."   
  
"I know Mr. Krueger." Freddy frowned.   
  
"OK smart guy. The bar is in there." Smith smiled slyly.   
  
"Good, good. It was inevitable. I hope you don't mind. I brought some of the family round." Smith moved to one side of the door. "This is their first Christmas out of the Matrix." Without allowing Freddy to reply, another Smith passed through in to 1428 Elm Street. And another. And another and another and . . . you get the picture.   
  
"OK . . . Make yourselves at home," sighed Freddy. "The more the merrier."  
  
"Thats the spirit Mr. Krueger."  
  
"Freddy," growled Krueger through gritted teeth. Smith had just topped his list of those he hated, knocking Jason and Alice down in to 2nd and 3rd. He stormed in to the bar room and checked the guest list. There were only three more to come. By this time, Jason and Chucky had already downed at least twenty five shots of vodka. And boy were they drunk . . .   
  
"And so Tiffany says to me -hic- GET OUT OF MY SHOEBOX -hic- I want a divorce! So thats when she starts to yell and get all puffy! So I just throw her out the house and thats the last I saw of her, I swear!" Jason nodded sympathetically.  
  
Michael Myers and Samara sat on two bar stools, chatting telephathically (HOW THE HELL DO YOU SPELL THAT?), while the Smiths had their own table in the corner of the room.   
  
DING-DONG  
  
Another guest! Freddy smiled eagerly, running to the door. "Hello there, I am your host, Freddy Krueger, may I take your . . . second skin?" In the doorway stood a terrifying creature. It had a long, bannana shaped head, black skin, and jaws that looked like they could cut through metal (This was in fact, the blood). The Alien hissed in reply to Freddy, before climbing on to the wall and down the hall. "Yeah well there you go . . ." Krueger pulled up his sweater sleeve and took a look at his watch. "Looks like dinner time . . . but the guests arent all here yet. Oh well." Freddy moved in to the bar. "OK kids! Dinner time!" Jason grunted, Chucky cursed, Samara turned her head, the Alien hissed, the Smiths raised their eyebrows and Michael did nothing.   
  
THE DINNER AND THE REST OF THE GUESTS NEXT TIME! MERRY CHRISTMAS FREDDY FANS! 


End file.
